


That's the Spot

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 9x05, Fluff, M/M, belly scratchies, can be just a cute brotherly bullshit thing if you want it to be, dog!Dean, just a cute piece of shit tbh, minor Wincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-11
Updated: 2013-11-11
Packaged: 2018-01-01 04:35:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1040397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A scene I believe should have been in the episode. Written for 9x05 "Dog Dean Afternoon"</p>
            </blockquote>





	That's the Spot

**Author's Note:**

> Written because there are way too few Dog!Dean fics. I expect more from you, fandom.  
> un-beta'd because I literally just wrote this out in the span of 10 minutes. I suppose if anyone likes it enough, I could continue it (:  
> Enjoy!

Dean was restless. 

It had been about an hour since He and Sam had gotten back from the kennel, Sam having wanted to wait until night to break into the restaurant where their suspect was supposedly located and opting to just drive back to the motel and wait it out until it was time to go. It was barely red outside, and Dean was pacing back and forth, whining in front of the window, and occasionally stopping in front of the motel door and scratching absently at the knob. He wanted to go get the fucker that'd sqaushed Colonel's human and rip him to shreds, not sit around the motel room watching Sam pitter-patter away at that damn laptop.

"Dean," Came an irritated voice, "Cut it out."

"Cut what out!?" Dean barked back absently, staring out the wide motel window and looking alert. There was a bird on the other side of the lot just pecking away at the grass and Dean was certain no good could come of that. That bird needed to get lost.

"You- whining at the door like you need to piss," Sam grunted, shutting his laptop harder than he needed to. He paused, then grinned, "Do you? Does Dean need to go for walkies?"

"That's demeaning, Sam," Dean growled, "We aren't stupid- you don't have to baby-talk like an idiot." He would deny, vehemently, to his last, dying breath, that the friendly tone in Sam's voice made Dean want to shake his ass in excitement and run to the door- walkies were fuckin' awesome.

"Aw, snappy puppy," Sam cooed, laughing. Dean thought he was having way too much fun with this, "You're just irritated because you've been cooped inside, aren't you? You just wanna play."

"Sam, that is beyond not funny." And honestly Dean was kind of uncomfortable with how much he just really wanted to play. The way Sam turned a bit to face him and gently patted his knees made him jerk toward his brother, but he kept his ground. Sam caught the movement and laughed, apparently delighted, "Stop it."

"C'mere, Dean," He said in a rushed, breathy croon, a few clicking noises following his command, "C'mere, Dean-y. You want belly scratchies?"

"Damn it, Sam!" Dean growled, coming a bit closer. Belly scratchies were better than walkies! A fuck all if the thought of having Sam's huge-ass moose hands giving him tummy rubs wasn't the most pleasant shit ever. Dean's apparent, reluctant interest seemed to surprise Sam, but the look turned quickly into a sly, pleased grin. He patted his legs again.

"C'mere, Dean! Come get belly rubs!" He said in faux-excitement, spurring Dean forward at last.

"God dammit, Sammy!" Dean growled, diving into Sam's lap on his back and dislodging the other's hands from his knees. Sam grunted at Dean's weight, and absently the older man thought it served him right, the bitch, but Sam gathered himself quickly and chuckled and the squirming, six foot man in his lap.

"Jesus, Dean," Sam laughed a bit awkwardly, the hand nearest to Dean's head coming up to scratch the older man's head affectionately. Dean stretched into the gesture, groaning out in a comfortable pleasure and stomping his foot onto the ground. He was going to kill Sam after this, and he told him as much.

"You aren't going to do anything, you big baby," Sam laughed, his free hand coming up and, as promised, going straight for Dean's stomach and giving a few long, purposeful scratches up the expanse of Dean's abs. Dean stomped twice more, hands flopping to rest above his head and tongue pressing into the bite of his teeth. Sam's scratches seemed to get a bit more confident after that reaction, the hand on Dean's stomach giving more force at a faster pace. Dean started stomping a bit wildly.

The hand in Dean's hair came down to just behind his ear and started mimicking its twin's movements, causing Dean to go from a giant, gooey mess to a fucking puddle, a whine of approval leaving his throat. "You know," Sam started, "I should really get some pictures of this. When you're in your right mind again I'm so going to use this as blackmail." Dean just made a sound that his human vocal chords must have thought was a bark.

The sound alerted the third party in the room to the vicious belly scratchies taking place, and in two seconds flat there was a furry mess of excitement on top of both brothers. Dean sputtered and growled, trying to get out from under the writhing mess of dog, but Sam just grabbed Colonel 'round the middle like he weighed fuckin' nothing and moved him off, giving the dog a furiously affectionate rub on the side. Dean heard the dog say something about a 'tickle spot', but was too lost in how awesome that'd been to really translate.

"Dean, you're drooling on my bed."

Dean hummed, rolling over onto his stomach and wriggling into the sheets. Like he fucking cared. 

"Dean, get the hell out of my bed- fun's over."

Dean just flipped him off and got settled. Like he was moving after that shit. The restaurant could wait. He was relaxed enough after that wonderful display that he thought he could sleep for weeks. In fact, he managed to think as Sam huffed like a bitch and moved himself to the other bed, the Colonel curling up by his side, he just might do that.


End file.
